Even though the sight of Tar training his students was vastly entertaining, Relam knew it was time to head back to the palace. His father would need his support, and there was a new guard commander to select. Stretching, the young prince made his way to the gate and slipped out, unnoticed by Tar and his clamoring students.
When Relam returned to the palace though, his father was not there. There were four guards at the door as usual, but they could tell him nothing of the king’s whereabouts. He had left with Clemon earlier in the day and not returned.
Disappointed again, Relam cleaned up and ate a solitary lunch in the dining antechamber, watched over by a quiet servant. The food was splendid as always, but Relam scarcely tasted it, wondering what his father was up to and if he would be all right.
The afternoon passed slowly. Relam alternated between dozing, trying to remember everything Tar had ever taught him, and reading a report about southern trade routes he had found on the table in the main room.
When his father did not show for dinner, Relam became worried. After asking the servants to delay the meal if at all possible, he set off into the palace, searching all the places his father was likely to be. He was not in the practice courtyard, blowing off steam or working on his swordsmanship. He was not in the gardens, staring at the door to the crypts. Nor was he in the council room, or the entrance hall, or the banquet hall. When Relam searched Clemon’s third floor office and found that it too was empty, he started to get worried.
Before he really panicked though, Relam had one last place to check. The audience hall. Used for court days and receiving dignitaries, the audience hall was a smaller hall not far from the banquet hall. It was just large enough for a throne and a hundred seats or so, if needed. Usually, the throne was the only item of furniture in the room. Visitors stood, which had the desirable effect of reducing the length of audiences. And when the space was not cluttered with tables or chairs it seemed larger and more impressive with its tapestried walls, marble pillars and high clerestory windows.
The door to the audience hall was closed when Relam arrived, with no guards at the door. He nearly turned around and left then and there, reasoning that surely there would be guards if his father were present, but then decided to check anyways. After all, the next step in the search was panic.
The young prince eased the left-hand door open and peered inside. The audience hall was dark, the lanterns extinguished, the only light filtering down from the clerestory above. But even in that dim light, Relam could see that the room was occupied by two men. One sat on the throne at the far end of the hall. The other hovered at his right hand.
Relam stepped into the hall, looking around warily. “Father?” he said tentatively.
“Your highness!” came the reply. Relam scowled as he recognized Clemon’s voice.
“Lord Clemon,” he said stiffly. “My apologies, I did not see you there.”
“Understandable,” Clemon said airily, looking around the darkened hall.
“Father,” Relam said, addressing the figure on the throne. “What are you doing here?”
“Running the kingdom,” the king growled. He was still wearing his crown which was unusual. Normally, he only wore it for formal occasions or when he needed to intimidate some uppity nobles. When he was not using it for either of those purposes, the crown was usually locked up in the royal suite.
“It’s after dinner time,” Relam said, looking around. “And today’s not even a court day.”
“I have kingly duties to attend to,” his father murmured, slumping in his throne.
“Are you all right?” Relam asked, frowning.
The king made no reply, ignoring Relam completely.
“Father!” Relam shouted.
“His majesty is indisposed at the moment,” Clemon said, clearing his throat hastily.
“Has he been like this all day?” Relam asked worriedly, turning to the king’s chatelain.
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“Well, I-”
“Father,” Relam said, kneeling beside the throne beseechingly. “Come with me, come home.”
“No,” he muttered. “I am king.”
Relam exchanged a puzzled look with Clemon. “I know that, father, but-”
“Go!” Orram roared, raising his head and thrusting his bearded face forward. “Go,” he said again. “Your king commands it.”
“But-”
“Relam,” Clemon said quietly. “Best do as he says. I don’t know what’s come over him.”
The prince backed away from the throne slowly, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Please,” Clemon said.
Relam turned and left, with many a backward look. His father sank back onto the throne with a grunt, sinking back into his brooding mood.
The young prince stopped just outside the audience hall and leaned against the wall, shaking his head.
“They were right,” he whispered, looking up to the heavens. “Her death has destroyed him.”
Chapter 26
The king’s condition did not improve over the next few days.
On the fifth day of the week, court day, he returned to the audience hall. Relam accompanied him, along with the king’s chatelain. A few people came seeking justice, or rulings in their disputes. Some the king dismissed. For those cases that were simple to resolve, he casually passed judgement and the participants were rushed out of the hall. By the afternoon, there were no more cases to be heard and the king went back to his new natural state, brooding on his throne.
The next day did not go any better. The king never left the royal suite. Relam did not even see his father until
